Often, he would awake at 2 AM. It was getting to be a standard. Awake. Unable to go back to sleep. Get up, throw the clothes on. Try to attain a level of awakeness that would get him out to the kitchen and the old electric coffee perc. Plug it in. Turn on the radio […]

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They called him “Lupi.” Because he was clumsy and awkward and childlike. Even at 57. They thought he needed to be more “responsible”–less “impulsive”–more “serious.” That he shouldn’t “trust” so much–shouldn’t be so “gentle”–so–”gullible.”  Interesting thing I noticed about Lupi shortly after I met him: he just wanted to be peaceful–understood–kind. I also noticed something […]

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After she left him, he walked the empty, dark streets at night. Trying to figure out what happened. Long drags on a stinging cigarette– a small glow that tried to light the shroud. Nothing worked. Everything was a reverberating, steel-cold echo. He needed to know why, and there was no why. Just the silence. And […]

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Old Folks

March 27, 2011 | Leave a Comment

“Howarya, John?” Nursing home visit to see John–someone from a distance back in my life. Before finding him, I had searched the third floor halls to locate him. A nursing assistant found me and directed me to the “day room.” John was in there–his star spangled American flag hat atop his bald head–the cap bill […]

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Goodbye

March 26, 2011 | Leave a Comment

Goodbye. Frightfully final. Had he misinterpreted? Inadvertently looked at things through gauzey, tired eyes? The old music–the oldies–kept booming through his mind–holding her hand–arm around her in the car–night trips–day trips–hell–she was the integral cog in his life. If he had done it, she was there. On the beach. In the mountains. Everywhere. To the […]

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A Telling Wind

February 21, 2011 | Leave a Comment

The wind blew sharply and the coiling clouds scuffed the treetops. He stood, looking. Years ago, he had stood here holding her hand, both of them looking. Now, it was just him. His arthritic fingers cramped, and he gently rubbed his old hands together. He had promised her he would come here one last time. […]

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Joshua was just a dog who stumbled over her own paws when she was just a pup. I used to pick her up and run with her through fields at sunset, let her sleep warm in my arms, and sometimes in my bed. And in return, she gave me love. That may seem strange to […]

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Close To It

February 12, 2011 | Leave a Comment

George valued proximity. Grew up in the suburbs, but always felt drawn to the mountains. Went there whenever he could as a teenager–jumped into the old car and drove up north to be as deep in the woods as possible. For as long as possible. George never felt really comfortable around more than one person […]

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Pushed to the Limit

February 10, 2011 | Leave a Comment

Mr. Robert Frost undoubtedly gave this a great deal of thought before writing: ” The rain to the wind said/’You push and I’ll pelt.’/They so smote the garden bed/That the flowers actually knelt and lay lodged,/Though not dead./I know how the flowers felt.” Remember.

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Flopsy

January 23, 2011 | Leave a Comment

There is an agreeable stuffed bunny character that sits atop a chair back directly across the living room from my Mother-In-Law’s recliner. Years ago, when my Mother-In-Law was severely ill and in the hospital, my daughter gave her this talisman of love and encouragement. Flopsy is the bunny’s name, and she faithfully gazes across the […]

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